


Wild enough for you

by BlushLouise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, HotLockWeek 2020, M/M, cross-faction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushLouise/pseuds/BlushLouise
Summary: Hot Rod is reckless. Turns out, Deadlock likes that in an Autobot.Written for HotLock week 2020!
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Hot Rod
Comments: 57
Kudos: 103
Collections: HotterLock Week 2020





	1. Teeth

Hot Rod would have cursed himself out loud if he’d thought it make a smidgeon of a difference. He could practically hear Springer doing so, for all that Springer was half a day’s flight away. _Focus. Keep your wits about you. Slaggit, Roddy, you have a responsibility now, you have to act like it. Don’t just run off half-cocked._

All stuff he’d heard a thousand times before. Not that it did him much good now.

At least Blurr had gotten away. At least Roddy was alone in this. Granted, that probably meant he’d be the only one to die, since he really wasn’t worth trading back to the Autobots for anything. Still, small favors. Although Springer would be pissed.

The black Decepticon stood over him, looking deceptively – hah – relaxed. He had a gun aimed at Roddy, of course, but he wasn’t even looking at him. Despite that, Hot Rod very much doubted he’d survive if he dared make a move in any direction. Not with this one. Besides, it wasn’t like he could move much anyway with his hands cuffed behind his back.

He recognized this particular Decepticon, of course, from the images Autobot command staff had circulated. Deadlock’s picture had been accompanied by strong warnings such as “Shoot on sight” and “Avoid in close combat”. There was a bounty on his head, even, and more than a few Autobots might have been tempted by that hadn’t it been for the fact that Deadlock had taken out both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker at once, and if Ratchet hadn’t been there neither twin would have survived.

No, Hot Rod was in no hurry to move. Especially since it seemed Deadlock was fine just standing there.

There was a reason Springer was always on his back about being rash, though. And when Hot Rod had waited for more than long enough for Blurr to get both back to base to alert Springer what had happened and to lead him back to Hot Rod’s location, and no one had shown up, Hot Rod grew more than a little impatient.

“We waiting for a special invitation or something?” he said finally, making sure he held absolutely still otherwise. He might be reckless, but not as reckless as Springer accused him of being. Well, not often anyway.

Deadlock didn’t even glance at him.

Hot Rod dared sit up slightly, get his legs under him. He probably looked ready to move, but he’d chance it. He needed to do something, and apparently he couldn’t trust the Autobots to come for him.

“Just saying,” he said idly. “I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around here. So do I, for that matter. Though of course, if you want an Autobot shot to the head, feel free to stick around.”

No response.

Hot Rod glared at him. “Also, if you caught me just for my stellar conversational skills, you really should reply when spoken to.”

That got him a reaction, at least, even though it was nothing but a dry chuckle. Hot Rod would probably be offended if he wasn’t half-terrified.

Deadlock chuckling was a scary sight. Not that he moved much or even looked at Hot Rod, but the absolute lack of fear made Roddy exceedingly nervous. Also, Deadlock laughing looked just plain terrifying. He had too many sharp angles and pointed finials and live weaponry for Hot Rod to feel anything else.

Still, he couldn’t shut up. Springer would probably be furious with him. “Laughing doesn’t count, you know. I guess I have to tell my friends that you couldn’t carry a conversation if your life depended on it.”

Deadlock smirked, and Roddy found himself staring at the sharpness of it. Literally – Deadlock could probably tear out throats with those fangs. “Poor little Autobot. You think your friends are going to rescue you?”

His voice was lighter than Hot Rod had expected, smoother too. He realized he’d expected something like Starscream’s screech or Megatron’s growl, and Deadlock was neither. His voice was more like Springer’s, actually – husky, gravelly, but also close to silky. It was almost enough to make Hot Rod forget that Deadlock had actually asked him a – most likely rhetorical, but who cared for those - question.

“I know they will,” he said, as confidently as he could manage. “Any minute now.”

“Good.” Deadlock took a knee in front of Hot Rod, lifted his chin up with one finger. “As nice as your company is, prettybot, you’re not the one I’m here for. Convenient that you came by when you did, though.” He grinned again, and Hot Rod was struck by the sudden desire to touch those sharp fangs. “Might let you go after, just for that.”

Prettybot?

_Prettybot?_

Hot Rod snarled. “I’m not going to be bait for you to lead someone else into a trap.”

“Too late for that,” Deadlock purred, still grinning, face tantalizingly close to Hot Rod’s own. “You’re already here, sitting pretty, best bait I could have asked for. Thought you’re right.” He let go suddenly, so suddenly that Hot Rod was a little disoriented by it, and straightened. “Any minute now.”

Later, Hot Rod would try to explain how he’d ended up unharmed through the crossfire and explosions, how Deadlock had seemed to push him over so he was covered by some rocks. Seemed to had to be the key words there, because there was no way Deadlock got him out of harm’s way on purpose. The questioning was lengthy and exhausting, and Hot Rod was less sure what had actually happened at the end of it than he was in the beginning.

So he did the only smart thing he could do. He pushed away the thoughts of the entire thing, and tried to move on like nothing had happened.


	2. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was getting to be a habit, and not one anyone in command would be happy about. Roddy caught flack over it every time, now, for taking unnecessary risks, deviating from planned routes, all of it. Never mind that it was his job to scout ahead. Him deviating from the routes should be a good thing, really.  
> And if he had another reason to go sneaking through the ruined buildings, he’d never admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this as a chaptered fic XD Guess it didn't make much sense as a one-shot, huh?  
> This chapter is shorter than I'd like, hopefully you'll forgive me for that.

It was getting to be a habit, and not one anyone in command would be happy about. Roddy caught flack over it every time, now, for taking unnecessary risks, deviating from planned routes, all of it. Never mind that it was his job to scout ahead. Him deviating from the routes should be a good thing, really.

And if he had another reason to go sneaking through the ruined buildings, he’d never admit it.

It was kind of freaky, skulking in among the ruins like this. He kept seeing shadows in every corner, and not the shadow he wanted to see.

It figured that in the end, Deadlock was the one to find him instead of the other way around.

“Back again, little Autobot? What’re you looking for?”

“I should ask you that,” Roddy said as he turned around, trying to look more cocky than he felt. “You’re the one who hasn’t moved on with the other Decepticons. At least I have a reason to be here.”

“More than one reason, it seems,” Deadlock purred, stepping closer. Hot Rod caught himself stepping back, and shook his head. He wasn’t afraid of this Decepticon.

Well. He wasn’t _just_ afraid. And sometimes the very healthy dose of fear drowned in other, frankly unhealthy sensations.

Like now.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Hot Rod smirked. “Perhaps you should leave, before Springer and the others come and whup your aft again.”

“Leave?” Deadlock circled him slowly, and Hot Rod turned with him. Slag if he was letting the ‘Con at his back. “No, I don’t think so. Besides,” he leaned in, voice a low croon in Hot Rod’s audial. “It’s not my aft I’m worried about.”

“Hah. Like you’re worried about mine.”

Deadlock grinned, showing off those hot fangs. “Well, it’s a very fine aft.” Quick as lightning, his hand darted out to land on Hot Rod’s aft, pinching. “It’s almost worth watching you walk away, really. Almost.” The last word was a whisper, and Hot Rod shivered with it.

Oh, frag it.

He seized Deadlock by the back of the neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Deadlock didn’t surrender into it. Deadlock never surrendered. But he growled, and he grabbed Roddy’s hips, and he nipped at Roddy’s lips with those sharp fangs, and fine, yeah, maybe Hot Rod did surrender into it. Just a little bit.

“So that’s what you want,” Deadlock said, breaking the kiss after what seemed like minutes. “Well, I’m not opposed to a bit of fun.” He walked Hot Rod backwards until he hit a wall, and promptly pressed him against it, one leg pushing Hot Rod’s apart. Deadlock kissed him again, teeth pulling at Hot Rod’s lower lip. “Always thought you looked like fun.”

Hot Rod growled. “Shut up and kiss me some more.”

“Impatient, Autobot.” Deadlock chuckled, his thigh pressing against Hot Rod’s rapidly heating panel. “Should have known that about you.”

“I’m not the one pouncing an enemy in an alley.” Hot Rod didn’t know why he was arguing, except it was fun. It was fun, and Deadlock was hot, and Hot Rod was half sure he risked getting shot every time he opened his mouth.

“No. You’re just the one waiting around to be pounced.” Deadlock smirked. “So let me pounce you already.”

Hot Rod didn’t argue anymore at that point.

Though he was going to have to come up with a story to tell Springer.


	3. Fixation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roddy wasn’t obsessed. He wasn’t. He just… couldn’t get that damn Decepticon out of his mind, that was all.

Roddy wasn’t obsessed. He wasn’t. He just… couldn’t get that damn Decepticon out of his mind, that was all.

It didn’t seem to matter what he did. He’d tried keeping busy, he’d tried sparring, he’d even tried fragging (which had backfired epically, since he kept imagining the wrong mech in the berth with him). No matter what he tried doing, he kept zoning out and imagining sharp fangs and a confident blinding grin, red optics set in a pale face, dark frame running hot against Hot Rod’s own.

It was very, very distracting.

It didn’t help that every time he left the base, Deadlock was there. At first it had just been the ruins, but then Deadlock had found him on patrol in the wastelands, and after that it had been in the neutral territory bordering the Autobot-controlled areas. Last time they’d met, it had been within Autobot-controlled land, with patrols going by every few minutes. Deadlock had claimed him up against a wall inside a warehouse with Springer and the others in the bar just across the street.

Deadlock was getting bold. And it was getting dangerous.

Not that Roddy objected to his stalker. Rather the opposite, in fact. But he was also fairly sure that the fragging, epic though it was, wasn’t worth them getting caught. Rodimus would be charged with treason if that happened, and Deadlock would probably be executed.

Funny, how he cared more about the latter than the former at this point.

It would have been simpler if it was just interfacing. But he found himself thinking about Deadlock’s laugh, how he snuggled up to Hot Rod after they were done, how happy he always seemed to be to see him. At least Roddy assumed there was happiness hiding under that smirk. Hot Rod would save up funny stories to tell next time they met. He even brought a first aid kit with him to patch up any scratches or wounds Deadlock showed up with.

Slag it all, he actually cared.

And he didn’t know if Deadlock did.

He didn’t know if it mattered whether Deadlock did or not.

Well, no. It did matter whether Deadlock cared or not, because Hot Rod didn’t really want to take these kinds of risks for someone who didn’t like him. But he was already in too deep. If Deadlock decided what they had was nothing at this point, Hot Rod was already at the point where it would seriously hurt. And it wasn’t a good place to be.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t really want to change anything, but he didn’t want to keep on going in this holding pattern either. It was a distraction, his thoughts running in circles all the time, unable to focus.

Of course Springer had to notice that. Observant slagger.

“Okay,” he said, sitting Roddy down after a sparring match. “Spill.”

“What?” Hot Rod replied, playing dumb. Not that it helped, because Springer saw right through him.

“There’s something up with you, Roddy.” He put a hand on Roddy’s shoulder. “Something’s bothering you. And I’d like to help, if I can. Before you zone out at a critical moment and get yourself killed.”

“I do not zone out.” It wasn’t entirely true, but no way was Roddy going to admit to anything. Not until he had to.

Springer gave him a look. “You stopped mid-sentence while talking to Whirl yesterday. He had to actually prod you. You zone out all the time, Hot Rod.”

Oops. Full name use. He wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Fine,” he sighed. “There’s… this mech.”

No way was he telling Springer everything. But maybe he could tell him enough to get some advice.

“We’ve been seeing each other now and then for a while,” he continued. “It was all physical at first, but…”

Springer’s face split in a wide grin. “No. Way. Little Hot Rod’s caught feelings?”

“Stop it.” Roddy shoulder-checked him. “No laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” Springer said, even though he was. “This is a good thing, Roddy. Why’re you worried?”

That was the hard part. “I’m not sure what he feels,” Hot Rod admitted. “Or if he even feels anything. And… I don’t know if I can go on without knowing that.”

Springer stared at him like he’d said something particularly dumb.

“What?”

“Oh, Roddy.” Springer chuckled and shook his head. “There’s a very simple solution to this.”

“There is?” Roddy wasn’t sure anything was simple anymore.

“Yeah, there is.” Springer put his hands on Roddy’s shoulders and looked him straight in the optics. “Talk to him. Ask him what he feels. And then you’ll know.”

It didn’t sound that simple to Hot Rod. Maybe because of the complicating factor that Deadlock was a ‘Con.

Still. It might be the only way forward.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Springer.” He patted the bigger mech’s wrist. “I’ll do that.”

Hopefully Deadlock would be willing to talk too.


	4. Brand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t see a Decepticon,” Roddy said softly. “I just see you. But you… You still see just an Autobot, don’t you?” He should have expected that much. Shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Of course Deadlock couldn’t forget that Roddy was an Autobot. Of course he wouldn’t develop feelings.  
> Hot Rod couldn’t help the way his spoiler drooped.  
> Surprisingly, Deadlock snarled. “Don’t ever talk about yourself that way. You’re not just anything. You’re way better than that. You’re way better than them.”

Hot Rod didn’t really have to try very hard to find Deadlock. All he had to do was leave the base, and Deadlock would find him and pounce on him. Today was no exception.

Pushing the very hot Decepticon off him to try and actually have a conversation was the hard part. Especially because Hot Rod would like nothing more than to just forget all his worries and let Deadlock do to him what they both wanted. But if he did, he’d be tormenting himself wondering until next time they met.

“Hang on,” he panted, planting his hands on Deadlock’s chest and trying to push him back a little. ‘Trying’ being the key word, because Deadlock growled and bit down on Hot Rod’s neck.

“Please,” Hot Rod tried again. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk after,” Deadlock grunted, pulling Hot Rod close again. “Need you.”

“And I need you to talk to me.” This time, Hot Rod managed to push Deadlock away. “Please. Please, Deadlock.”

Deadlock huffed and sat down on a piece of metal that might have been part of a building once. “Fine. What do you want, Autobot?”

“I…” Frag. Now all his words were gone. He knew he should have practiced this. “I… Here’s the thing. It’s kinda hard to do this when I don’t know what it means.”

“What it means?” Deadlock gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s fragging, fragging doesn’t mean anything.”

Slag. “Well, it does to me,” he dared to say. “It’s not just fragging. It hasn’t been for a while.”

Deadlock stood again, pacing back and forth. “Knew I shouldn’t have done this,” he muttered. “At some point, those dumb little Autobot values had to make themselves known, didn’t they. What do you want, Roddy? Want to be courted, tell everyone you’ve tamed the big bad Decepticon? Stolen Megatron’s third in command’s spark?” He stopped and pointed at Hot Rod. “Whatever you want to take from me, you’re not getting it.”

“This isn’t about taming you, or stealing anything.” Slag, how did everything go this wrong already? “I just – you mean something to me, Deadlock. I just want to know if I mean something to you.”

It wouldn’t work. He should have known it wouldn’t work. Deadlock was growling and pacing in front of him, looking at everything but Hot Rod, fury clear in every line of his frame.

“Tell me your thoughts,” Hot Rod pleaded, much more tentative than he wanted.

Deadlock stopped again, but he didn’t turn to look at Hot Rod. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking I should get out of here. This won’t work. You want to be the Autobot who tamed the wild Decepticon, and I won’t – I won’t do that.”

“I don’t see a Decepticon,” Roddy said softly. “I just see you. But you… You still see just an Autobot, don’t you?” He should have expected that much. Shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Of course Deadlock couldn’t forget that Roddy was an Autobot. Of course he wouldn’t develop _feelings_.

Hot Rod couldn’t help the way his spoiler drooped.

Surprisingly, Deadlock snarled. “Don’t ever talk about yourself that way. You’re not _just_ anything. You’re way better than that. You’re way better than them.”

Roddy threw his hands up. “Then what are we even arguing about!?”

“I’m not giving myself up for you!” Deadlock shouted back. “And if I let this go on any further I’ll have to!”

Roddy stared at him. “You… what?”

Deadlock shook his head. “No. You just go back to them, Roddy. Go back to them and forget about me. I’ll go back to mine and forget about you.”

Oh, Pit no.

In two long strides, Hot Rod was in front of Deadlock. He grabbed him by the sensitive helm finials and crashed their lips together.

“If you think,” he growled, “that I’m going to let a little thing like those badges we wear on our chests get in the way of me keeping you, you’ve got another thing coming. They are _never_ taking you away from me.”

‘They’ could mean both Autobots and Decepticons at this point. He didn’t care either way.

“Then what the slag do we do,” Deadlock gasped, hands already moving over every part of Roddy’s frame.

“I don’t know yet.” Roddy kissed him again. “But I’ll slagging well figure it out. Because I’m keeping you. For me, not for the Autobots. You’re mine.”

“Possessive.” Deadlock smirked. “I like it.”

“You would.” Roddy laughed even as he boldly traced the seams of Deadlock’s panel. “Still up for fragging?”

“Hnn. Always.”

Always.

Well, that was a start.


	5. Temporary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just wait,” Deadlock whispered, pulling back to run his fingers over Roddy’s jaw to wipe the energon away. “In a few days, this’ll be over. We’ll be out of here.” His voice shifted from comforting to that snarl Hot Rod absolutely adored. “They won’t lay a finger on you ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this one: attempted sexual assault. Stay safe and curate your reading space if you wish to <3

It stood to reason that something had to go wrong eventually.

Hot Rod spat out the energon pooling in his mouth, tried to work himself up on hands and knees. He didn’t have time to brace against the next kick, and grunted at the impact. It was all he could do not to fall back down in the dust.

“Out alone, Autobot?” The voice was unfamiliar, foreign. Rough hands grabbed at his waist and tore at his panel. “Well, we know how to make use of that.”

Roddy growled and threw himself sideways, hoping to escape the ‘Con’s grip. No such luck. The ‘Con pushed him flat onto the ground and shoved his legs between Hot Rod’s, forcing them apart.

Seemed his luck had run out.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” the ‘Con panted. “Bet your valve’s tight for me, huh? Bet you’re a fighter.”

“Bet you’re not gonna find out,” another voice said, and Hot Rod would have collapsed with relief if he’d dared to move at all. “Bet you’re going to turn the Autobot over to me for interrogation, aren’t you, Boom?”

“Aw, frag,” the ‘Con on top of Hot Rod says, and the weight is suddenly gone. “You sure know how to spoil the fun, Deadlock.”

“Find your fun elsewhere.” Deadlock’s foot prods Hot Rod’s side. “Leave this one with me, I’ll have him screaming in no time.”

Hot Rod had to choke back a laugh at that. Knowing Deadlock that was probably true, but not in the way Boom imagined.

He stayed down, Deadlock’s foot on his back, until Boom’s and his companion’s footsteps had faded away. Only then did he lift his head.

Deadlock grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “We’re not in the clear yet,” he whispered. “Play along.” He pulled Hot Rod along, into a building across the derelict street, and Hot Rod struggled the entire way.

As soon as they were inside, Deadlock rounded on him. His hands were warm on Roddy’s cheeks, his face so close Roddy couldn’t see it clearly. What he could see looked relieved, though. “Frag, Roddy, I thought they were going to kill you there for a moment.”

“So did I,” Hot Rod slurred. His split lips hurt. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” Deadlock growled. “I shouldn’t have to swoop in and rescue you.”

That hurt, but he wasn’t wrong. “Yeah,” Roddy agreed. “You’ll be in trouble with the ‘Cons over this. I’m not worth that.”

“Not worth –“ Deadlock groaned and kissed him, which was more painful than nice but Roddy wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Don’t talk stupid.”

Hot Rod tried to protest that he wasn’t, but he was too busy kissing Deadlock back to say much.

It seemed like an eternity later when Deadlock finally pulled back. “We need to get you out of here. Can you comm that friend of yours to come and get you?”

“He won’t come here.” Roddy winced as he tried to stand. Boom and his buddy had really gone to town on him. “I’m kind of… not where I’m supposed to be. I’ll need to head back to the other side of the settlement first.”

“You dumb idiot,” Deadlock sighed, but his hands were gentle as he examined Hot Rod’s chest and abdomen, carefully pinching torn lines shut. “You’re not supposed to put yourself in danger looking for me.”

“Why not?” Roddy frowned. “You’re putting yourself in danger looking for me.”

“That’s different. I can take it. You can’t.” He put a hand over Roddy’s mouth. “And I’m not saying you’re weak or anything. I’m just saying… Sonic and Boom would’ve used you and left you for dead.”

Roddy didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know how to react to Deadlock’s tone, to his voice cracking.

“I can’t risk you like that,” Deadlock continued. “I can’t – we can’t keep doing this.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Hot Rod asked, which was stupid, since they weren’t even together. Not like that.

“Never,” Deadlock replied, which – huh. Maybe Roddy had gotten that wrong. “But I’m not risking the ‘Cons finding you again.”

“So what do we do?”

“You won’t survive around Decepticons,” Deadlock said slowly. “But… I can survive with the Autobots.”

“What?” Hot Rod blinked. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll come with you, you aft. I’ll get you home tonight, throw Sonic and Boom off the trail, and in a few days, I’ll come with you. Okay?”

Like Roddy was going to do anything but kiss him after that.

“Just wait,” Deadlock whispered, pulling back to run his fingers over Roddy’s jaw to wipe the energon away. “In a few days, this’ll be over. We’ll be out of here.” His voice shifted from comforting to that snarl Hot Rod absolutely adored. “They won’t lay a finger on you ever again.”


	6. Taunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Poor little Decepticon,” the blue mech laughed, shoving Deadlock again. Roddy ached, straining against the arms holding him back. Oh, why wasn’t Springer here yet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: graphic violence and assault.

Defecting, it turned out, wasn’t easy. Especially since they had to keep things as quiet as possible to ensure Deadlock’s safety. Prowl knew, the rest of high command probably knew, Springer and Kup and Arcee knew. And that was that.

Hot Rod didn’t know how to feel about that. He was nervous and edgy all the time, and no one understood why. He couldn’t even tell anyone.

When the day came that they were finally picking up Deadlock, he was a nervous wreck.

“Calm down,” Springer said quietly, walking behind Hot Rod out of the base. “Or you’ll give everything away.”

“I’m never calm,” Roddy shot back, aiming for a smirk since it was pretty much the only expression he thought he could reliably pull off at this point. Slag, even his hands were shaking.

“First time for everything.” Springer grinned. “See you at the rendezvous point, Roddy.”

Roddy knew why he was supposed to go alone for the final stretch. If any of the other Decepticons saw Deadlock meet one Autobot, that was bad enough, but it could be salvaged. Deadlock could probably weasel his way out of that one if he had to. But if he met with several, Megatron wouldn’t listen to a single word he said. Deadlock would be killed before he had the chance to defend himself.

So, Hot Rod was alone as he walked the last stretch. Thankfully, Deadlock was where he was supposed to be.

“Hey, prettybot.” Deadlock smirked at him, but Roddy could see how nervous he was. Probably as nervous as Roddy was, really.

“Hey, hotness.” Hot Rod smirked back. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Beyond ready.”

They had to stick to the alleys and shadows as much as possible. At first Deadlock was the one to lead the way, one hand around Hot Rod’s wrist as if he was pulling him along. When they got far enough away from any Decepticon outpost they switched, and Deadlock let Hot Rod cuff his wrists in front of him. They headed for Autobot territory with Hot Rod holding a gun to Deadlock’s back.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“Just a little further and Springer will find us,” he murmured.

He spoke too soon.

“Well, what do we have here,” someone said, and suddenly there were mechs around them, vaguely familiar faces that Roddy had a feeling he’d seen around base but couldn’t put a name to. All Autobots, all technically on his side, all looking at Deadlock like they finally saw a chance at payback.

“Out of the way,” Roddy said, straightening as much as he could and trying to make himself look important. “I need to get this ‘Con back to base.”

“I don’t think there’s that much rush, do you?” one of the others commented, and suddenly Roddy was being held back, arms grabbed so he couldn’t move, and the first speaker socked Deadlock across the face.

“I think we have time to have some fun,” he agreed, shaking out his fist. “Besides, you probably don’t have to get him there in one piece, do you?”

“Prowl wants him for interrogation,” Roddy growled, which wasn’t even a lie. “He’s a prisoner. Autobots don’t mistreat prisoners.”

“He ain’t a prisoner yet,” a dark blue mech growled. He walked straight up to Deadlock, pulled a gun and shot him in the leg. Hot Rod shouted, Deadlock went down with a grunt, and the mech laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure he’s fit for interrogation. Mostly.”

In desperation, Hot Rod commed Springer. Just a quick ping - they weren’t supposed to use comms out here, not unless it was an emergency, because there was too much risk of someone picking up on it that shouldn’t, but he figured this was enough of a problem to warrant it. Deadlock really was a high-value prisoner, technically, even though there was no intention of putting him in an actual brig.

Deadlock tried pushing himself up, but the blue mech shoved him back down. “Not so deadly now, are ya, _Dead_ -lock?” he taunted. “Not so dangerous after all. Dead-metal. Dead-waste. Decepticon scrap.”

“Stop it!” Roddy tried to pull away from his captors, to no avail. “Stop it, you slagger, they’re waiting for us! Let us go!”

“I don’t think so.” That was the first mech talking again. “Hey Switch, shoot him in the other leg.”

“Don’t!” Hot Rod shouted, but it was too late, and Deadlock screamed in pain as the shot went straight through his ankle. Even so, he tried to push back up, even though there was no way he could stand.

“Poor little Decepticon,” the blue mech laughed, shoving Deadlock again. Roddy ached, straining against the arms holding him back. Oh, _why_ wasn’t Springer here yet?

“I think that’s enough,” the first mech said. “We’re supposed to be on patrol.” He sneered at Deadlock, then at Hot Rod. “I’m sure that this little hot shot can manage to haul the big bad Decepticon the rest of the way, right? If he doesn’t leak to death first.”

“Good riddance if he does,” the blue mech muttered as they walked away, and Hot Rod had to restrain himself to not shoot him in the back.

He practically ran to Deadlock, kneeling at his side and reaching for his leg. Thankfully the shots missed the major fuel lines, so he wouldn’t bleed out before they got moving, but Hot Rod honestly didn’t know how far he could get with Deadlock slung over his shoulders.

He tried anyway.

One step, then another. “Come on, Springer,” he panted, willing his feet to keep moving. “Where are you, you slagger?”

Past one row of houses, then another. It was too slow, Deadlock was too heavy. They wouldn’t get there. Not before Deadlock leaked out.

“Roddy!”

Springer always loved being the hero. He loved to come dashing onto the scene at the last minute, saving the day and getting all the glory.

And Hot Rod would never, ever tease him him about that again.

He watched as Deadlock was strapped to a gurney attached to Springer’s landing skids, Ratchet cussing up a storm as he worked to stabilize him. It wasn’t until they were well in the air that Hot Rod transformed and followed.

“You did well, kid,” Kup said, slowing down to drive next to him. “He’ll be fine. You know Ratchet doesn’t let anyone slip between his fingers.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ratchet hadn’t seemed overly worried, just griping about dumb soldiers too abusive to be trusted on their own. They would be reported, Hot Rod knew. “It’s just… I thought he’d be safe, that’s all. With us.”

“Not yet.” Kup sounded grim. “But eventually. Just stick by him, lad. If he’s anything like you’ve said, he’ll be fine. Eventually.”

Yeah, he would. Hot Rod would make damn sure of that.


	7. Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come on,” someone screamed, and Roddy hung on for dear life. Deadlock was fast on his feet, even carrying Roddy, and it was all Roddy could do to keep from falling off. His leg hurt like the pit, but he ignored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor character death in this one.  
> Well, I say minor. He's a fairly major Autobot character. Just hasn't come into this story much.

It had all gone wrong really fast. One moment they were pulling back slowly, making sure the medics had time to evacuate the wounded and that Red Alert had time to scrub the base AI, and the next –

The next Hot Rod had been screaming, shrapnel lodged deep in his thigh, as the Decepticons swarmed over the wall and cut down everyone they could see bearing a red brand.

He’d backed up as much as he could, shooting as he went. Stood side by side with Deadlock, until he couldn’t stand anymore. Then Deadlock had scooped him up, hauling him out of there.

“Come on,” someone screamed, and Roddy hung on for dear life. Deadlock was fast on his feet, even carrying Roddy, and it was all Roddy could do to keep from falling off. His leg hurt like the pit, but he ignored it.

Everything was falling apart. Literally. He watched the buildings he’d lived in for most of his time with the Autobots crash to the ground as they were bombed. The Decepticons advanced faster than Deadlock could run.

“Transform,” Hot Rod gasped. “Transform, and I’ll cling to your roof.”

“Won’t work,” Deadlock grunted. “Haven’t got the tires for it. That last attack blew them. I’m faster on my feet.”

He wouldn’t be fast enough, though. Roddy could see it. There were Decepticons everywhere. He’d lost track of Springer, of Arcee, of everyone.

He’d be damned if he went down without fighting, though.

It seemed to go on forever. Deadlock would round a corner, and Hot Rod would shoot at anyone who followed them, over and over again. They couldn’t keep it up for much longer.

“Hot Rod!”

The relief that they wouldn’t have to was so massive Roddy damn near collapsed on Deadlock’s back. But then he realized who their unlikely helper was.

“Prime, sir?” he yelped. “You should have evacuated!”

“I’m one of the strongest ones left.” Optimus Prime’s voice was darkly determined. “I’m not leaving while I can still save lives, Prowl’s wishes be damned.” He aimed a huge gun at the Decepticons chasing them. Hot Rod would have been thrown to the ground by the recoil alone.

Then Ironhide was at the Prime’s shoulder, massive cannons whirring. “Prime! Get them out of here!”

Hot Rod didn’t have time to object further. Prime picked him straight off Deadlock’s shoulders, turned around, and ran. Deadlock limped after, as fast as he could, and Ironhide brought up the rear, firing continuously at their attackers.

For a while, it looked like they might get out of it alive. None of the shots aimed their way hit them.

And then Optimus stumbled.

They were close enough to see the last shuttle, waiting for them. Ironhide cursed loudly and hauled Optimus’ arm over his shoulders, dragging him along. Hot Rod fell to the ground, and Deadlock pulled him back up, practically carrying him the last few steps. They more fell than walked into the shuttle, and the door hadn’t even shut behind them when it took off.

“There are more Autobots,” Optimus gasped, pushing at Ironhide to be let back up. “We need to get them.”

“ _You_ don’t,” Ironhide shot back. “Lie down an’ stop bein’ an idiot.”

The doors closed, the shuttle darted away, and Hot Rod could only hope everyone he cared about had gotten away safe. He was about ready to collapse on top of Deadlock and recharge until they got wherever they were going.

“Prime!” Ironhide’s shout rang out, more panic in it than Hot Rod had ever heard.

Hot Rod turned, leg failing under him, and crawled up to Optimus’ side. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought it was a surface wound,” Ironhide bit out, hands already darting over Optimus’ prone frame. They were covered in energon, and more was leaking out. “But there’s shrapnel embedded in here, it’s sliced every line he’s got! He’s leakin’ out!”

Hot Rod cursed. He wasn’t a medic, he barely knew how to do more than clamp energon lines, and he didn’t have his first aid kit. But he had to try.

Desperately, all three of them worked over Optimus Prime’s frame. Their fingers slippery with energon, Ironhide cursing steadily as more and more damage was found.

In the end, it wasn’t enough.

Hot Rod watched, tears streaming down his cheeks, as Optimus Prime greyed. He could vaguely feel Deadlock at his side, warm and supportive, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

This was his fault. Optimus Prime would have still been alive if he hadn’t come to help Hot Rod and Deadlock.

There was a click and a hiss. Hot Rod tried wiping the tears away - only managing to smear Optimus’ energon all over his face – and tried to see what was happening.

Optimus Prime’s chest was splitting open.

“The Matrix,” Ironhide said. He sounded broken. “We gotta – we gotta take care of the Matrix.” He didn’t move, though. Just stared at Optimus, optics blank and dim.

Well. Optimus had saved Hot Rod. The least he could do was safeguard the Matrix for him, make sure Ultra Magnus or whoever got it.

He wiped his hands on his torso, trying to get most of the energon off. Then leaned forward, carefully, and lifted the Matrix free of Optimus’ greyed-out chest.

There was a tug in his frame. A light bright enough to blind him.

ARISE, RODIMUS PRIME.

… well, frag.


	8. New (DriftRod day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It feels strange,” Roddy admitted, touching his chest. “I’m not me and still me, you know?”
> 
> “Kind of.” Deadlock stepped close, grinning. He had to look up a bit at Roddy now, which was really weird. “It’s a good look for you though.” There was a flash of something uncertain in his optics. “Still room for me? Now that you’re… this?”

Strange, how quickly things could turn completely on their heads.

The Autobots had been in an uproar when they’d arrived. The chaos of settling in at a new base quickly gave way to a kind of howling grief that Hot Rod had never seen before as Ironhide carried Prime’s grey frame out of the shuttle. Everyone was crying out on horror and sorrow and disbelief.

Hot Rod had been too afraid to even leave the shuttle. What would they say when they saw him like this? Would they blame him? Did he deserve it if they didn’t?

He’d stayed in the shuttle with Deadlock until most of the crowd had followed Ironhide inside, curled up in a corner with his face partially hidden in his arms.

Deadlock stayed right next to him.

“Say the word,” he said quietly, “and we’re hijacking this shuttle and getting the slag out of here.”

Hot Rod kind of loved him for that. But… “We can’t,” he sighed. “I’ve got the Matrix. And I should hand it over.”

And he’d tried. He really had. He’d sat there in the powered-down shuttle with Deadlock, chest plates open, and tried to pry the Matrix back out of his chest. But it wouldn’t budge.

In the end, it had been Springer who’d come for them. Of course.

“Roddy.” He’d sighed, and Hot Rod hadn’t been able to tell if it was in relief or disappointment. Not even when Springer had taken his arm and pulled him to his feet, nodding for both of them to follow.

The first meeting with Prowl and Jazz and Ultra Magnus and the rest of them had been horrible. No one seemed to know what to say. Ratchet had swept through in a hurry, confirmed that the Matrix had bonded with Roddy’s frame and that Roddy was in effect the new Prime, and then left as quickly as he good. He’d looked devastated the whole time.

Roddy didn’t blame him. Not one bit.

He’d stayed mostly the quarters he’d found for himself after that. They were small and cramped, barely enough room for him, but he suspected that was mainly because he was a little bigger now than he’d been before. Though he refused to think about that.

Deadlock stayed right next to him the whole time. Even when there was barely room in the berth for the both of them.

Finally, they came to get him. Hot Rod didn’t know how long it had been. He hadn’t kept track of time.

Jazz had simply sighed at him. “C’mon, Roddy. It’s time we settled this.”

Roddy wondered what his punishment would be. The Autobots needed the Matrix, sure, but he wasn’t a Prime. Not technically. Maybe Ultra Magnus would take command, and Roddy would just be in house arrest or something.

He hadn’t expected to walk into the room and be hugged. Least of all by Ironhide.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Ironhide sighed. Roddy was getting kind of tired of being sighed at. “None of this is your fault. None of it.”

“You’re the Prime now,” Ultra Magnus said, voice softer than Roddy had ever heard it. “And I think you will make Optimus proud.”

“How can I?” Rodimus whispered. “I’m not like him.”

“You’re not supposed to be.” Prowl was as strict as ever, thankfully. Roddy didn’t know what he would have done if Prowl had been all soft as well. “You’re not Optimus. And that’s okay. Optimus is gone, and yes, he will be dearly missed. But him being gone doesn’t make you being here wrong.”

“You’re not Optimus,” Ironhide repeated. “You’re…” He frowned. “Who are you?”

Wasn’t that the question. Roddy suspected it would take him a long time to find out.

“It called me Rodimus,” he replied. “Rodimus Prime.”

They moved him into the Prime’s quarters after that. This was a new base, so there were no traces of Optimus anywhere. Hot Rod – no, Rodimus now – was grateful for that.

Best of all, Deadlock was still there.

“How’re you doing, prettybot?”

“It feels strange,” Roddy admitted, touching his chest. “I’m not me and still me, you know?”

“Kind of.” Deadlock stepped close, grinning. He had to look up a bit at Roddy now, which was really weird. “It’s a good look for you though.” There was a flash of something uncertain in his optics. “Still room for me? Now that you’re… this?”

“If you try claiming that I’m too important for you now I’ll punt you out the nearest airlock,” Roddy threatened. “I have the frame for it now, you know. I can do it.”

“If I let you.” Deadlock smirked, but he looked relieved. “Though maybe I’ll need to ask Ratchet to make me taller. Since he’s doing a full frame workover on me anyway.”

Rodimus smiled. “But then I can’t do this.” He bent down and scooped Deadlock up, flailing arms and all. “Don’t change your frame too much,” he murmured, pressing his face into Deadlock’s neck. “It’s bad enough one of us is different, okay?”

“Fine. I’ll stay mostly me.” Deadlock chuckled. “Prowl tells me I need a new designation, though. It’s time for Deadlock to meet with an unfortunate end. So I was thinking… What do you think of ‘Drift’?”

Roddy smiled. “I like it. Sounds like you.”

“Good. And for the record… You’re still you, too. That gadget didn’t change that, okay?”

“Okay,” Roddy whispered.

He didn’t feel much like Rodimus Prime. But maybe, with Deadlock – Drift – there, he would learn to.


End file.
